


First Impressions

by nells_is_trying_to_write



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: OC, Overwatch OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 06:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nells_is_trying_to_write/pseuds/nells_is_trying_to_write
Summary: 3 A.M.McCree shuffled into the base’s kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.3:04 A.M.Cowboy swears echoed through the base





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in my google docs from a few years ago, thought I’d put it up here ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Just a drabble about my OC, who was involved in illegal experiments and as a result, possess the ability to manipulate her own personal field of gravity.

3 A.M.

 

Jesse shuffled into the base’s kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He was still on that post-mission high; wanting to sleep but unable to settle. As he started a pot of coffee, he could hear Angela’s voice in his head.  _ It is your own fault that you’re up so late, Jesse McCree,  _ she would scold,  _ I told you to switch to decaf.  _ A sudden crunching sound made him jump, hand automatically going to his waist.

 

The kitchen was empty.

 

Frowning, Jesse wandered over to the doorway and poked his head into the darkened hall. No one. 

 

Another crunch. He spun around, eyes narrowing. There were only a few people in the base capable of sneaking up on him, and Fareeha was on a mission, which left only Hanzo, and Genji. 

 

_ Genji. _

 

“Alright, I know yer here; quit hidin’.” 

 

Silence. 

 

_ Damn Shimadas.  _

 

There was another crunch-from above him. 

 

Slowly, he looked up. 

 

There was a girl sitting on the ceiling.

 

Jesse yelped and stumbled backwards, banging his hip on the counter. “What the  _ hell?! _ ”

 

The girl raised? Lowered? An eyebrow, unimpressed. She was sitting cross-legged, an looked to be around the same age as Hana, and Lucio, with a bony frame and an angular face ending in a pointed chin. Her teal bob, which also seemed to be defyin the laws of gravity, only served to make her pale skin seem even paler. She was wearing a strange blue and gray bodysuit-slash-harness with knee high, mechanized boots.

 

And she was eating his chips.

 

His surprise quickly gave way to indignation. “Hey! Those are mine!”

 

The other eyebrow moved to join the first. “I was under the impression that this was a communal kitchen; as in, the food is communal.”

 

“Yea, but those are  _ my  _ chips!”

 

The girl on the ceiling popped another chip in her mouth, unconcerned. “I don't see your name on them.”

 

Jesse scowled. He didn't  _ need  _ to put his name on them, everyone knew by now that Juanitas were his thing. Even Junkrat had stopped trying to take them. 

 

_ Wait a minute.  _

 

“What a minute, who the hell are you? An’ why the  _ fuck _ are ya on the ceiling? How'd ya even get in here?!”

 

The girl considered him for a moment before folding the chip bag closed and dusting off her hands. A few crumbs landed in his hair. “I was recruited. Dr. Winston was going to announce me, but then a half-naked guy with his hair on fire came in and started babbling about mission reports. I got hungry.”

 

He chuckled and leaned back on the counter. “Yep, that's Junkrat. Gettin’ a clear report outta him is harder than gettin’ water outta a stone. So what's yer name, kid?”

 

She glared at him. Damn, the kid was almost as good as Hanzo at disgusted looks. 

 

“Rook,” she said shortly. 

 

He waited. The glare intensified.

 

“Cassidy.”

 

“That ‘cher real name, kid?” 

 

“That your real hair, old man?” she shot back. 

 

He choked, then laughed. “Touchè. Yah gonna give me my chips back?”

 

Rook quirked an eyebrow and held out the bag. “These chips?” she asked innocently.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Now, during the course of their conversation, Jesse had almost forgotten that the girl was on the ceiling. And so all he could do was watch as she let go of the bag.    
  


Luciò was on his way to the bathroom when a pained howl echoed through the base. He yanked his headphones off, eyes wide, then sprinted towards the kitchen. 

 

Overwatch members, in various layers of clothing and clutching a variety of weapons, crowded in the doorway, staring in confusion at the scene before them.

 

McCree, barefoot and in loose gray sweatpants, was holding what looked like and empty Juanitas bag and swearing violently at the ceiling. Chips were scattered all over the kitchen floor, and his head and shoulders were sprinkled with crumbs. A pot of coffee was burning unnoticed in the background. 

 

“THOSE WERE BRAND NEW YOU SON OF A BITCH! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO GET THOSE OUT HERE?!”

 

Luciò scrunched up his face in confusion. “What …”

 

“Jesse,” Angela ventured, “What is going on?”

 

The yelling turned into a muted growl as Jesse threw himself down in a chair, arms  crossed and shoulders hunched. “Damn new ‘cruit wasted my chips.”

 

Hana frowned. “But, McCree, I've seen you eat things off the floor before. Can't you just pick them up?”

 

“I  _ would _ ,” Jesse groused, “but  _ someone _ ,” he glared at Junkrat, “didn't disinfect the floor after they spilled their bodily fluids all over it last night.”

 

“Hey!”

 

There was a deep chuckle from the hallway behind everyone, and they turned to see Winston; standing next to him was Rook.

 

“Everyone, meet your new teammate, Jennifer Walsh; call name: Rook,” He said. 

 

Jesse growled.

 


End file.
